


RUN BOY RUN

by ceoofsextugger



Series: the most dangerous games [1]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Blood, Blood Magic, Demons, F/F, Horror, Louie Duck Needs a Hug, Post-Episode: s02e24 Moonvasion!, Post-Season 2, Supernatural Elements, anxious huey, horrorish..., huey goes apeshit, i guess, ish, not self harm, self inflicted injury, several times, spooky dark tunnels, supernatural horror, the brothers will battle, webby is a good friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-19 05:04:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22239001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceoofsextugger/pseuds/ceoofsextugger
Summary: huey duck is smarter than the smarties. his logic tells him that this isn't happening.unfortunately, his logic is wrong.louie duck is sharper than the sharpies. that's how he knew this was a bad idea.he doesn't know if his keen eye can get them out of this now.dewey duck is tougher than the toughies. most of them.but when he ends up in a race against a demon with lives on the line, he has never felt weaker.
Relationships: Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck & Lena & Webby Vanderquack, Lena/Webby, hints of
Series: the most dangerous games [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1600807
Comments: 19
Kudos: 39





	1. its in your head

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Most Dangerous Games: The Runner](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/550162) by Lucia. 



> hi there! this is my first fic in forever so forgive me if it's a little bit rusty. i really want to get back into writing! i've missed it quite a bit.  
> earlier when i was reading the website "the ghost in my machine", i realized that a lot of those spooky game stories could be really good inspiration for a fanfic... or multiple! and having just finished ducktales, i've got ducks on the brain. so here i am. 
> 
> i changed a few rules and made a couple modifications to the original story just for narrative purposes, or else there'd be no story. kinda would like to have something to write about. other than that, i'm not sure there's much else to say!
> 
> lena doesn't come in till a bit later but! she will be here. no worries. anyways, onto chapter 1, features a nervous (and FRUSTRATINGLY contradictory and back and forth) huey, webby being a lovely supportive sister, and louie! existing! because i love him.

“Oh, man, guys, you’re _never_ gonna believe this!!”

The familiar voice rung out to Huey. The duckling perked up from the book he was flipping through and turned his head towards the open door before his blue-clad brother came zooming into the room. Before Dewey had _oh-so-rudely_ interrupted, Huey was spending a nice afternoon researching a Junior Woodchucks paper. The rain outside kept him and his brothers contained within the walls of the mansion which was fine to Huey. It gave him a day to play catch-up on his research paper, although now and again he got distracted by the drizzle of the rain on his windows, or Donald and Mom yelling at each other from the living room.

Huey set his pen and book on the surface of his desk, careful not to disturb its mindful organization. Dewey was panting, looking out of breath. After standing with his left hand on the doorframe and his right hidden behind his back for a minute, trying to catch his breath, he looked up at Huey.

“You _guys_.”

Oh, that’s right. Huey nearly forgot that Louie was in the room as well, lounging on his bunk of the bed, absently scrolling through whatever brainless thing he found on his phone.

“What’s up, Dew,” came the voice of the third triplet. He sounded as nonchalant as always.

Dewey took a few more steps into the room and ran his free hand through his feathers while Huey turned his chair around to him. Whatever it was, Dewey seemed riled up about it. Although, on second thought, it didn’t take much to get Dewey excited for a trip or an exploit.

“Okay. So Webby and I were in the library-“ he started. Louie snorted in response.

“Oh, nerd stuff, gotcha.”

This comment, however, caught Huey’s attention. He cleared his throat and leaned forward. “I’m interested,” he said.

Louie scoffed. “’ Course you are.”

Dewey shook his head. “Hey, hey, the fact that I was _in the library_ does not matter. It’s what we _found_ in the library.”

He closed his eyes and lifted his head, beaming with smug pride.

Louie was now sitting up in his bed, having unplugged his headphones. Huey’s gaze fixed on Dewey, his eyes glittering with curiosity. _Come on, Dew, cut to the point._ He kept his impatience to himself. He folded his arms.

Dewey, not before pausing (for dramatic effect, Huey presumed) and vocalizing a drumroll, removed his hand from behind his back with a “Ta-da!”

Huey’s gaze shifted from his brother to the book he was holding. It looked old as if nobody touched it in a while. There were still specks of dust collecting on the parts where it appeared Dewey had not wiped it off very well. It had a deep maroon cover, lined with gold on the binding, and a small maroon bookmark hung out from inside the pages. Dewey held it with a tight grip.

Louie smirked. “Great! You found a book. Congrats, you figured out what libraries are for.”

“No, no, no, my dear brother, not just any book,” Dewey started, which elicited an eye roll from Louie. Huey could tell, however, that Dewey was _right_ \- or, at least about the book being a smidge odd. He narrowed his eyes and spoke up.

"Hey, Dewey. What’s the bookmark for?”

“Ahah, a smart catch, Hubert!” Dewey exclaimed, before scurrying over and slamming the now-open book onto Huey’s desk. Huey let out a squeak- it was clear that Dewey had _no_ regard for his _very careful organization_ , and before he knew it, Louie had stumbled out of his bed and made his way over to the group as well.

It was… curious, to say the least. The author (whoever that was) wrote the book in a deep black ink on yellowing pages. Neat cursive writing lined the pages and judging by Louie’s squinting, he was having trouble deciphering it. The title was in larger print.

“’Racing in the Dark’?” read Huey, furrowing his brow. He ran his hand over the old paper. “Dewey, what even is this?” 

There was something _unsettling_ about the book, but Huey was having a bit of trouble putting a feather on what it was. Besides the fact that it was clearly ancient and maybe haunted.

Dewey was beaming. “We-e-ell,” he began, his voice chirpy. Huey braced himself for whatever was coming next, because, knowing Dewey, it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

He cleared his throat. “Webby told me that _this_ book is a book containing only _the most dangerous games_ ,” he lowered his voice for added ominous effect. “It has- get this- intricate instructions for simple spooky games to detailed rituals and summonings. And I found one that would be an interes-“

Louie cut him off. “Whoa whoa. You want us to… follow the instructions in a book that looks like it was from _forever ago_ in order to… what. Bring ghosts back from the dead so they can _kill us_?!”

Huey for once had to agree with Louie. There was reckless and stupid, and then there was _reckless and stupid._ He knew Dewey rarely used his head when it came to decision making, but this was just a whole new level of wanting to get you and your family killed. Still, though, it was a situation requiring thoughtful judgement. He sat back in his chair for a moment. On one hand, even Dewey himself stated it outright. The book was dangerous, and everything in it could be deadly. Or worse. But… on the other hand, it could be an _excellent_ resource for a set of badges he still had to earn. Specifically, the ones about disproving urban myth.

Because there’s no way any of this could actually be real. They had encountered some absurd, unbelievable things, _but_ this book clearly hadn’t been used in a long time, and even if Scrooge did use it at one point, _he_ was still alive. That was reassuring. Either the book wasn’t _that_ dangerous, or it was fake.

Plus, “ghost-summoning rituals” wasn’t in his handbook. He knew that things that existed _weren’t_ in the guidebook, but this seemed too run-of-the-mill to _not_ be in it.

“No, you’re not paying attention, Louie,” Dewey retorted. “There’s a gain, too. What, do people just go around summoning spirits and messing with games and deals for _fun?_ ”

“I know you would.”

“Name one other person.”

“I know Webby would.”

“Okay, okay,” Dewey said, and frowned. “Fine. …But what if I told you we can _all_ get something out of this one?”

Louie raised an eyebrow. Huey looked at him, a nervous expression on his face. The youngest triplet, however, was paying no heed to him, and instead focused on Dewey. “Reeeeally?” he said, unconvinced.

“Yeah! Louie, imagine the most valuable thing you own. And now consider: what if there were two! Or! Or! What if the object was _enhanced!_ ”

Huey tilted his head. “Enhanced?”

Louie cracked a small smile. “Honestly, I don’t know if it would really even... mean that much to me, but I like the way you think, Dewford.”

Dewey grinned. “’Course you do.”

The group fell silent for a moment that felt like ages. Huey had grabbed one of his ballpoint pens out of habit and began clicking it while turning over his thoughts in his mind; the same thoughts he thought he had just dispelled. The idea had potential, but he was confident that him and Louie were both aware of a more-than-probable catch somewhere down the line.

He watched as Dewey bounced slightly in anticipation. He pursed his lips before letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Okay, Dewey. I’m… in,” he said, standing out of his chair. “But I get to carry the book.” He wasn’t exactly sure _why_ he wanted to hold onto it. He decided he could analyze it for real if he was able to get a better (and longer) look at it. “And _remember:_ this is _your_ idea.”

“Sure, whatever, that’s all fine,” Dewey rolled his eyes and turned to Louie.

Louie flicked his gaze to the corners of the room, then back to the middle triplet. Louie closed his eyes before taking a deep breath and repeating Huey’s “I’m in.”

* * *

The rain was relentless. The deluge outside had only intensified after the congregation of the brothers in their room, and now Huey could see sheets of rain pelting down onto the windows. It was unnerving, but Huey pushed away his discomfort. He could deal with that later. He had bigger things to tackle.

The atmosphere in the library was much nicer than that of the stuffy air of his room; he appreciated the candlelight and the open space. Bookshelves occupied most of the aforementioned open space, but it felt nicer nonetheless. And Webby’s company always lifted his spirits. She was situated next to him at a small table, her head in her hands with her elbows on the table, peering over and watching him as he studied the text.

“Webby, is this book intentionally vague, or is it just my interpretation of it?” he asked her. She hummed to herself for a moment and then shrugged her shoulders.

“I think it… makes sense? I mean, I understand why Dewey would want to try _this_ challenge, anyways. It’s running, and he’s athletic, so I guess it only makes sense.”

“I guess that makes sense.” The section detailing the challenge spanned about two and a half pages. Huey kept staring down at it, rereading over every instruction it gave. Not that he really _believed_ any of it would _work;_ for one, he made up his mind. He _decided_ he wouldn’t work, and secondly, he had his doubts on the idea of summoning spirits anyway, especially in this particular manner.

 _Even if it is fake, whole thing still gives me the creeps._ He thought to himself. “Why do we specifically need to do this in a subway tunnel?”

Webby shrugged her shoulders. “Dunno. But I mean, we’ve been to the tunnels below Duckburg before, so I doubt it’ll be too different now.”

He _did_ remember their excursion into the tunnels. But it was most definitely going to be different this time. Hopefully this time would be safer and they wouldn’t run the risk of getting crushed by a train. He shuddered at the memory of that.

“What about the Terra-firmians?” he said.

He felt that could be a “ _gotcha_!” and they _might_ not have to worry about this anymore. Every time he thought he could get over the mental hurdles he had he recalled another unsettling element to this adventure.

“The tunnels are big enough that we can possibly avoid them,” Webby countered.

She paused.

“Huey, are you… okay? You seem really, really nervous for this,” she asked, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Like, more nervous than usual… usually I only have to worry about consoling Louie.”

Huey put his head on the table and groaned.

“Yeah, I’m… well,” he sat up again, rubbing his eyes. “Webby, look at this! How could I not be nervous for some of these instructions?! Dewey is messing with… with some _serious_ stuff.” He pushed the book towards Webby and wrapped his arms around himself. 

He watched as she scanned the book, an unreadable expression on her face. After a few moments passed, she met his eyes. A look a compassion shimmered in her gaze. “Huey, it’ll be okay. You’ll all dealt with worse! Besides,” she said. “It really doesn’t seem like anything _too_ bad can happen. In my opinion, the worst thing that could happen is we lose whatever object Louie is looking to duplicate-slash-enhance.”

Huey unclenched his jaw. “…Yeah, I guess you’re right. I don’t know, Webs, I guess it’s just freaking me out for some reason. I don’t even think it’ll _work_ and I’m still nervous!” He chuckled, and flicked his eyes to the window. “Must be the weather.”

“It’ll be fine, Huey!” Webby had a reassuring smile that helped him push his anxieties aside. She _was_ right. Dewey was… well, he would admit, not the smartest one of the three, but he wasn’t _stupid_. Or at least Huey _hoped_ that Dewey wouldn’t be stupid, in the off-chance this ended up being legitimate…He would give him a stern talking to before the main event.

The two sat quietly, the sound of the rain hitting the manor disrupting the silence.

“…You don’t think Dewey wi-“

“Huey. Come on,” Webby urged, putting the bookmark back in the page and closing the book. “Dewey isn’t about to do something stupid and get himself killed. He’d be too upset if he died!”

Huey chuckled. “That’s… well, that’s true. Speaking of Dewey, um, though, where… is he?”

Dewey interrupted his thought process by speeding through of the library corridors and crashing into a shelf, followed by Louie chasing right after him hollering, “No, no, no! You need to be _stretching_ , not using up all your energy right now!!!”

Huey’s chuckle turned into a real laugh. Webby gave him a reassuring pat on the back. “Really, whatever happens, I’m sure it’ll be okay with you three.”

Huey nodded. “Yeah, that’s… yeah.”

“And even if it’s _not_ , I’ll be here for you!”

“Thanks, Webby. You’re the best.”

She grinned.

* * *

The group had taken a short snack break before resuming preparations for the night to come. Dewey had insisted that they go that night, although the other two brothers were a tad more hesitant, their efforts to postpone the adventure was in vain. The group had ended up squeezed around the table again, the book in the middle.

“Okay, team,” Huey started. He decided that he was going to put himself in charge. “As leader-“

“Whoa, whoa, why are you the boss?” Louie asked, raising an annoyed eyebrow.

“Because I’m the oldest.” Louie looked unsatisfied with that answer. “And I have the book, which has the rules.”

Louie grumbled and slumped back in his chair. Huey began again.

“Okay. We have a few points to go over.”

Huey stretched to reach over the table and pull the book closer to him. He stood at the head of the table and faced the book towards the rest of them. “This… erm, event… only calls for _one_ participant, but it says nothing _against_ having multiple people around for… moral… support….”

Dewey let out a whoop of excitement.

“So… we’re just gonna hope that’s allowed. Okay! Second. Dewey, you’re aware of the physical requirements for this, correct?”

“Run fast.”

“Not just that.”

“…What.”

Huey cast a glance downward. “Uh, right, so the… uh, you know why a sharp object is on the requirements list?”

Louie momentarily went pale, and Webby frowned. Dewey looked around the table. “What. What am I not getting.”

“So… steps seven through nine,” Huey started. “Use the sharp object to draw blood to draw the finish and starting lines.”

That was a surprisingly difficult sentence to spit out.

“Oh,” Dewey responded. “Well… that’s easy! No problem!”

Not the reaction Huey was expecting, but it didn’t surprise him, either.

“…Okay. Great! Glad we got that out of the way. Louie, do you have the wager?”

Louie nodded, but crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “Listen, _Deuteronomy_ , you better not fuck this up for me and lose this thing.”

Dewey looked a little surprised that Louie was busting out the _real_ name, and if Huey was honest, he was too, but the middle brother shook his head.

“Gotcha, gotcha. No need to worry about that, anyways! I can’t lose!”

Huey read over the rules for a fourth time. Nighttime, yes. Running shoes, gotcha. Bloodletting and line drawing, not the best thing in the world, but he supposed it would have to be done. Wager? Check. The hardest part, he figured, for Dewey, would most likely be the conjuring of his actual opponent. Huey clicked his pen in anxious fervor as he began to contemplate the idea. If this ended up being a real, _honest_ demon-summoning ritual, what if Dewey’s mental state wasn’t strong enough to handle it? What if he got too specific with his opponent and they didn’t show up? Well. Maybe that wouldn’t be too bad.

There was so much that could go wrong. There was a lot at stake here.

If it’s real.

Huey didn’t really _believe_ in stupid ritual-games anyways.

But then, he thought to himself. _Why_ has he been getting so worked up all today? Why did he feel like he was going back and forth? It wasn’t in the guidebook. Demons weren’t in there to begin with, let alone summoning them! It wasn’t real. _Full-stop._ No more debating, no more back and forth. _Not. Real._

He stopped clicking his pen.

He was getting himself all nervous and sweaty for no reason. _You’re just getting too in your head, dummy._

Outside, the thunder crashed. Inside, the clock struck five.

Huey had time to psyche himself up later. He figured he would have another moral-support chat with Webby, too, while he was at it. For now, it was almost time to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huey is probably the brother i have the hardest time characterizing. ive been rewatching a bunch of huey episodes and it continues to remain difficult for me. oh well. in the meantime, i hope you all enjoy chapter one! hoping that after getting the ball rolling a bit things will be easier for me. 
> 
> im also publishing this at 3:50 on a sunday night when i have to be at school in 4 hours because im sick of it just sitting in prowriting aid. i will never be satisfied. typical.


	2. they're trying to catch you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louie is a bit nervous for the upcoming excursion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why is chapter two always so difficult to get through? i dont know, but if i dont post this now (once again, early early monday morning) then i never will bahah. 
> 
> so! louie! louie is my favorite of the duck bros and yeah. he will get a lot of attention in this (although im trying to focus on all of them equally) because i love him, what a baby. anyways apologies, if this is a bit slow x_x. getting the characters from point a to point b (and delving into louie's head), is always a bit draining. 
> 
> oh well! let's get to it.

Louie Duck knew this was an awful idea.

The whole thing screamed, “This will get someone killed!”

But it was very clear to him, and Huey, that Dewey was persistent. The entire family was aware of Dewey’s condition. He had been craving something exciting for a long time; after the Moonvasion, everything they did left Dewey chronically _bored._

This book was the most exciting thing to happen to him in a good two months.

And Louie wasn’t about to take away that excitement from him. Even if reading the instructions from the page filled him up with dread to the point of watering eyes and a shaky bill (though he wasn’t sure _why;_ he had toughed it out through much more terrifying conditions, and this was just a book). Even if he was _positive_ this was bad news. He could play it cool. That’s what he did best, after all.

Once Dewey set his mind to something, Louie knew he would _dew_ it. He sighed. It was, unfortunately for people such as himself who preferred to stay home, in his nature. So that meant that Louie would have to deal with the occasional freaky-blood-magic-ghost-race.

…But it was going to turn out fine, or at least that’s what Huey kept saying.

At about 5:05, Dewey dismissed the meeting at the table. Huey remained in the same spot, however, which was the same spot he had been situated in for a few hours now. Louie strolled up to his older brother and tapped him on the shoulder. Huey jerked his head around, his eyes wide and startled.

“Hey, Huester,” Louie gave a small wave.

“Oh!” he said and gave a slight laugh. “It’s… just you. Okay! Okay.”

“Dude, what’s gotten into you?” Louie asked, a hint of genuine concern in his voice. “I haven’t seen you this shaky in… uh, a while.”

“More like, what’s gotten _out_ of _you_ and _into_ me,” Huey grumbled. “I need to stop looking at this book.”

Louie reached over and gently shut the book’s cover. He lowered his voice. “Hue, in all honesty, I’m just as nervous as you are…” he pursed his lips. This was annoying. “I don’t really _want_ to go through with this, but...” He felt the dread creep back into his stomach and get caught up in his throat, resulting in a difficult lump that always came before tears.

Huey’s expression shifted to concern. “Wait, Louie, don’t get upset…”

Louie wiped his eyes in annoyance. “I’m not upset!” he snapped, taking a step back _. Stupid over-emotional eyes. It’s not like I’m_ asking _to cry!_

“Besides,” he continued, defensively folding his arms. “It doesn’t matter anyway. We’re gonna go through this dumb thing whether we like it or not. Without Scrooge, or, or Mom, or anyone to save our butts if we get into something we can’t get out of.”

Louie watched Huey take a few deep breaths before removing his Junior Woodchucks book from underneath his hat. He turned up to Louie. “Webby told me something that helped me calm down a little. What makes this adventure any different from any other adventure we’ve had? It’s just a subway tunnel and possibly summoning, what, a ghost?”

Louie shrugged. “I mean, I guess-“

“Easy money, then!” Huey said. Louie squinted at him. It seemed to him like Huey was trying to convince _himself_ more than he was trying to convince _Louie_. “We have a ghost butler. It’s not like we haven’t dealt with ghosts before.”

He repeated himself. “I mean _, I guess.”_

“Bingo, brother,” Huey said, flipping through the pages of his guide. “But between you and me, I don’t even expect this to work, anyways.”

“Well, you don’t _expect_ thatmany things that end up being _actually_ real are-“

Huey cut him off. “ _Shhhh_. Just let me have this.”

“…Ah, um, yes. Right.” Louie decided that would be a good idea. He cursed the pit in his stomach where all the fear was collecting. Perhaps he could change the subject.

In reality, Louie’s own thirst for adventure had been quenched a long time ago. He didn’t _love_ going out as much as he used to (he would love to take a nap right about now, it was such a nice day for it), but he tolerated it and he had to admit, there were some fun moments. Seeing Huey in the state he was in was concerning to him, though, especially considering how much gusto Huey usually had for new discoveries or proving history. _Looks like I’m just going to have to suck it up and try and motivate him._

“Hey, Hue,” he said, taking a seat next to his brother. “What do you and Dewey typically do to get all, well, y’know, hyped for our usual adventures?”

Huey paused. “What?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure _you’re_ the one who calculated this, actually, but there are adventures we’ve had with… uh… low survival rates and we made it out alive. Were you ever nervous for those?” Louie asked.

Huey pondered that question for a moment, and Louie watched the look in his eyes shift from uneasy to contemplating. “Well, now that you mention it, _yes_ , but I was too concerned with the ‘historical discovery’ thing to give my worries too much thought, I guess. Most of the time Dewey and I just talk about the things we’re excited for.”

_Wonder why nobody included me in these chats._

“Well, there you go, then. I think we should talk to Dewey and Webby and see what _they’re_ excited for.”

Huey’s mouth curved into a smile; one Louie could tell was thankful and genuine. “That’s… a great idea, Lou.”

“Did you expect anything else?” Louie flashed a grin.

Maybe a chat with them would quell his own worries, too.

* * *

“Yes! Pre-adventure hype talk!”

“Except this time, Webby and I are here, too!” Louie interjected. Dewey looked momentarily embarrassed but no less enthusiastic.

“Great! Okay, okay. Honestly, I'm excited about the whole of it. Because if _this_ is real, you know what that means?” Dewey continued. Webby was sitting next to him on a couch in the library.

“No, what does it mean?” she asked.

“It means that _everything else in this book is probably real!”_ Dewey’s voice oozed with anticipation. Louie chuckled, trying to push away his doubt. “And! And!! We might get to fight a demon! How _cool_ is that?!”

“Yeah, super cool,” Louie lied in an attempt to hide his nerves. “Super, super cool.”

“Louie, you’re nervous too?” Webby asked. Louie noticed Huey shoot a glare in her direction.

“Well, not _nervous_ per se… just… cautious.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about!” she continued, ignoring his previous statement. “Come on! You two are some of the best adventurers I’ve ever met and you’re scared of a little _demon?_ We tackled Magica-Freaking-De Spell!!”

Huey nodded. “Well, that’s a fair point. It doesn’t get worse than her.”

“Okay, okay. That’s true,” Louie cracked a smile. “Psh, I bet if we even _told_ the demon we fought Magica it would run away so fast.”

“No, no, Louie! The goal is to make it _not_ run fast!” Dewey joked. That was enough to elicit a laugh out of Huey, too.

“Well, just wait till we talk about the Moonlanders! It’ll freeze right in its tracks out of fear.”

“Then Huey can talk it to death with his nerd facts or something while I claim victory!”

The banter helped to lift the mood of the room. The lingering feeling of discomfort and unease soon shifted into a lighthearted atmosphere, one ready for adventure. Louie had to admit; it was possible that even _he_ was ready for this. Huey, too, looked a lot more stable. After a few more minutes, Webby hurried off to the kitchen, backpack in tow, in order to collect snacks. Dewey wanted to get on the move as soon as possible. She claimed the job of packing snacks almost as soon as Dewey had mentioned an adventure. In the library, the light air from earlier remained, although Huey looked a bit more serious.

“Okay. I’m sure this’ll be fun, and even if it’s not real-“ (Dewey rolled his eyes at that comment) “-I’ll at least get a Junior Woodchucks badge out of it.”

“Is there a Junior Woodchucks badge for demon-slaying?” Louie joked, raising an eyebrow.

“…Don’t think so,” Huey responded. “Well, if it comes to it, I’ll embroider _that_ badge myself, I mean, I already have my embroidery badge, so-”

“God, you’re such a dork,” Dewey said, shaking his head. “But you’re right. It _will_ be fun. And you know what? I haven’t been worried this whole time. You want to know why?”

“Why’s that,” Louie deadpanned.

“Because when all four of us team up? We’re invincible.”

Louie felt a smile creep to his mouth. It was cheesy, sure, but Dewey had a point. They _did_ have a tendency to be a pretty unstoppable force.

“You’re right, Dewey,” Huey said. “ _But_. You did say _team up_ , so just… don’t try and do everything yourself, okay? We might be tough but that doesn’t make us unkillable. Dangerous things are still dangerous but I think it’ll be okay as long as we stay alert. What do you think, Louie?”

“I can strategize?” Louie suggested. “But yeah, I…”

He paused. It was good to see Huey looking a lot more confident than he was half an hour ago. It was comforting, even.

“I think we can win this thing.”

Louie’s thoughts were scattered when Webby burst into the room, slamming the previously shut door open, grinning wide and her eyes sparkling.

“I got snacks!”

She tossed a can of Pep at Louie, which knocked him in the shoulder. Curse Webby and her fast-pitch skills.

“Ow.” _  
_

* * *

“Where on earth are you kids off to in this weather?!”

The plan was running smoothly. Louie figured they could sneak off when nobody was watching easily, and they were inches away from getting away scot-free before Scrooge crushed the plan beneath his spat-clad feet.

“…Uncle Scroooooge!” Louie exclaimed, his words drawn out in dramatic fashion, as he drifted back into the house. “Hi!”

“Hello, Louie.”

“We were going to go visit Lena,” he explained. “Webby hasn’t seen her in… what, a few days?”

Webby nodded enthusiastically.

“Plus, she said she had something cool to show us. I guess it has something to do with the rain, _sooo_ we can only see it right now.”

Scrooge raised an eyebrow. Huey opened his mouth to speak, but Louie shot him a glance telling him to _shut up._ He knew his brother was notoriously bad at improv.

“Fine,” Scrooge shooed them with his cane. “Just don’t get into _too_ much trouble, ye hear?”

Dewey grinned, and Louie gave their uncle a thumbs up. “Of course not!”

“And take yer coats!”

“Okay, Uncle Scrooge!” sang Dewey, who scurried inside and threw on a blue raincoat with the rest of the kids following suit; of course, Huey had a red rain hat to match while Louie had green rain boots.

Before they knew it, the group was _sploosh_ ing out the door.

* * *

The trip to the Duckburg subway system was, for the most part, a walk in the park. Their escapade to find the Terra-firmians was mostly tame compared to other things the group had been through. The scariest part of that adventure was the very real threat of being crushed by a landslide. _Stupid nature._ For tonight, Louie was almost certain that the tunnel just had to be long, dark, and corridor-esque, so he hoped that they wouldn’t have to take any detours down abandoned railway lines.

Huey assumed the lead at the front of the line, while Louie followed in the back. The group forbade him from leading the group ever since the _Captain Lost_ incident. He rolled eyes at the memory.

Luckily for them, the subway tunnels weren’t too far away; they were, in fact, within a short walking distance. Louie appreciated the convenience of the layout. He picked up his pace a bit and ended up walking next to Dewey, who sauntered as confidently as ever.

“Hey, Dew, it’s almost time,” he said, attempting some easy conversation. Walking alone in the rain was getting too gloomy.

“Yes!” his brother exclaimed. “I’m… oh my gosh, I feel so excited I might throw up.”

“Uh, don’t. Please.”

“What about you, Lou?” Dewey asked. “You getting your strategies ready?”

Louie frowned. “Well, I don’t… ok, look. What are we going up against here?” he stated. “I can’t plan if I don’t know what to expect.”

This was true. As talented a scheme-maker as he was, it was still difficult strategizing against an enemy he’s never seen. Or knew basically nothing about. It didn’t help that Huey was hoarding all the information they had on the opponent in a book under that hat of his.

“Oh. Well, that’s fair,” Dewey responded. “I’m sure you’ll do well.”

Louie hummed. “I’m sure I will, too. It can’t be too hard to beat a demon in a race, as long as it’s… well, not teleporting.”

Huey called to them from the front of the line. “Okay, Dewey, I’ll tell you right now that we are _not_ going to do the middle line, so you _might_ experience some… physical interference from the competition.” When Louie looked to see what was going on, he noticed that Huey was reading from his phone as they walked. _Figures he would take a picture of it._

“What’s he talking about,” Dewey whispered to Louie.

He grimaced. “Oh. Uh, he’s just saying that the demon can shove you around. I think. Because it would take too much blood to…”

Louie was cringing, his wrists pulsating at the thought of _bleeding out_ as he tried to find the words to finish his sentence.

“I think you would bleed out if you wanted to make the third line, which is just a lane line.”

Dewey narrowed his eyes. “Okay. Nobody explained these rules to me, and we’ve been going over them so _vaguely;_ do you want to run it over with me again?”

“I guess we figured you would have read it already.”

He scoffed. “I _clearly_ didn’t. Recap, yes?”

Louie groaned and rubbed his eyes. He didn’t enjoy explaining the rules; they gave him the creeps. “Right. So the sharp object- like Huey said- is needed to… um, draw blood. You’re gonna use that blood to draw the starting line and the finishing line. They have to be a hundred meters apart from each other.”

Dewey nodded to himself, looking thoughtful. “Little blood never stopped me before.”

Louie scoffed. “I think it’s in your best interest to not get cocky. Have you ever sprinted that much before?”

“Yes?”

Louie raised an eyebrow.

“Well, okay, I’m not sure. I’m not, like, keeping track of how much I run!”

“Okay, okay. Don’t worry about it,” Louie said. “We’re here, anyway.”

Huey had stopped and put a hand out to signal to the rest of the line. Dewey straightened his back and Louie watched as a small smile appeared on his brother’s bill. A few feet away, the green subway booth towered above the four of them. It felt so much bigger to Louie than it did the last time there were there. 

Across the street, the lights to the movie theatre flickered and glowed in the rain. Webby pumped her fist and opened the door to the booth.

“Let’s go, boys!” she chirped, holding the door open as the other three ambled inside.

The tunnels were dark as ever, which was just what they needed. Louie buried his hands in his pockets and hovered near Huey’s side. No matter how many adventures they went on, Louie wasn’t sure if he could ever get used to this kind of darkness. A dripping sound echoed through the tunnels. _Well, I guess as long as we’re down here, we’re safe from the storm._

Louie checked his phone. About 6 p.m. He fumbled with his phone as he sped to turn on his flashlight when he realized that was a thing he could do.

“Really, Louie? Way to kill the mood,” Dewey complained.

“Don’t be stupid, Dewey,” he hissed. “Huey, what do we need to do now?”

Louie was sufficiently _creeped out._ He didn’t honestly _enjoy_ being down here last time, and he didn’t enjoy being down here again. Huey looked back at him from the front of the line.

“Find the darkest place. Or, I guess, before that…” Huey turned his head to Dewey. “We need to get you warmed up!”

Louie smiled. Webby reached into her backpack (the one where she kept the snacks) and pulled out a pair of running shoes. Louie cringed. _Webby. No. Why are you keeping shoes in the same place as the snacks?_

Dewey nodded. Louie watched, his arms folded, as Dewey put on the shoes and Huey began to coach him through a few warm-up stretches. Louie floated over to Webby’s side.

“So…” he started. “You excited?”

She squeaked. “Of course I am! Think about it. Our brother is about to go toe-to-toe with _a demon from the underworld!_ ”

Louie chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Yeah, I figured you would be. I’m just… I don’t know, nervous about the whole _pitch-black inky darkness_ thing.”

Webby put a hand to her cheek as she gaped. “Wait, Louie, you’re afraid of the-!”

She was cut off by Louie slapping a hand over her bill. “Shh-hhh-hh, Webby!! The guys don’t know that I’m… y’know…” his voice dropped to a whisper. “… _still_ scared of the dark. I mean, it was obvious when we were kids, but now? It’s kind of… dumb.” _God. What a stupid thing to admit._

“Well, it’ll be okay, Louie. The race will last, what do you think, forty seconds at most?”

“Dewey can do it in twenty,” Louie replied as he attempted to both lighten the mood and change the subject.

“Hey, it would be _super_ entertaining to watch Donald try this out.”

“I mean, he already had to deal with a race during that whole Gladstone thing.”

The two continued to joke. To Louie, though, the darkness that surrounded them was an ever-present reminder of the inherent danger of their situation. 

He kept his phone in his hand and his flashlight on. He wasn’t about to take any chances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so theres that! i think im going to stick to a weekly monday update schedule. so mark your calendars ! 
> 
> next chapter: we get into some real action. expect a webby perspective and some very wholesome familial hand-holding/comfort.


	3. the sun will be guiding you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look! it's monday again! sorry this wasn't posted earlier. i did stay up until 4, but i was thinking about tangled, which is what i spend 90% of my time on nowadays. (: im having fun.  
> uhhhhhh yeah so i guess this is kind of where things start getting all dramatique. yay! i also didn't spend too much time editing this chapter so apologies for any mistakes. i have had a week.
> 
> ok! tw for self-injury (not like, in a self harm way. in a 'i need to do a blood ritual' way.) but it's not really graphic or detailed.

“Okay, Dewey, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Dewey snorted. “Of course I do. Webbigail, why are you doubting me?”

“I’m not doubting you!” She put her hands up defensively and took a step towards him. He was jogging in place and occasionally doing a few stretches. Webby rolled her eyes and smiled.

“I’m not. I want to make sure you’ll be safe, y’know, for your brothers’ sake.”

“Oh? Not for _your_ sake?”

“Don’t be stupid, Dewey.”

Dewey grinned. “I got this, Webby.”

“Okay,” she started. “Do you know where you need to cut in order to get the right amount of blood out without hitting too deep in a vein and bleeding out?”

That shut Dewey up. She didn’t mean to scare him, but it was a valid preparatory question that needed to be asked. Louie and Huey were off a few paces behind them inspecting the book. They had left her alone with the star of the evening, and she wasn’t about to let him wing this thing.

“Well?” she said, raising a brow, leaning closer to him. “Do you?”

“Um, well, no, but I-“

“Well. There you go!”

"I'll be careful!"

The knife used for the ritual was sitting on the ground next to them. Her eyes briefly flicked to it and back to Dewey. “Okay. We'll... discuss it when the time comes, I guess. We already went over the middle line thing, right?”

Dewey shook his head ‘yes’.

“Okay. Well, Dewey, it’s up to you for when you want to start. You’ve been warming up for about fifteen minutes now. …Oh, you aren’t _nervous_ , are you?”

“No!” Dewey spat. “… Of course not.”

Webby nodded. “Right. Then we need to go somewhere darker.” She took a few steps towards Huey and Louie. “Guys, we’re moving.”

“Uh, what? What do you mean?” Huey asked, a look of blank confusion on his face as he fiddled with his hat.

“Yep! Gotta go darker.”

When Louie opened his mouth to protest, Webby gestured to the glowing ‘exit’ sign that hung over them. _Louie might be afraid of the dark, but he's gonna have to have to deal with it for right now._ She felt a pang of guilt for thinking that, but she could keep him company, or hold his hand, or _something_ , and he’d be fine. She pointed deeper into the tunnels.

“All right! Then let’s go.”

They rearranged back into their line and began their descent deeper into the dark.

Webby, of course, lagged to the back of the line, where Louie walked silently with his hands jammed into his pockets. She watched them squirm from their hiding place, a clear sign of the youngest Duck’s discomfort and unease. His unusual silence was covered up by Huey and Dewey chatting from the front of the line.

“Hi, Louie,” she said, a smile on her face that was essentially invisible in the dark. “I decided I’d… you know, check up on you.”

“’Preciate it,” he mumbled. “ _Gah._ Why can’t I hang out here, by the entrance, where it’s _a little_ less creepy?”

“Oh, come on, Louie! Life is all about stepping out of your comfort zone!”

“Yes. However, I don’t like that.”

She sighed. “Okay. Would you rather hang out in a place that... really isn’t much brighter, all _alone_?”

He thought about it for a minute before shaking his head. “Yeah, no. I hate that idea more somehow.”

Webby held out her hand, upturned, wiggling her fingers and signaling for him to take it. He glanced at her, or she assumed he did. It was dark and hard to tell, but within a moment, his hand slipped into hers. It was cold and a bit clammy.

He scoffed, and she guessed he could sense her momentary discomfort. “It’s chilly down here.”

As the trip continued, Louie clutched Webby’s hand tighter in predictable intervals. As they walked along, she learned to tell when he would get nervous; a train in the distance would creak or moan, or Dewey would say something startling from in front of them. Once the group stopped and the exit light was far, far out of sight, Louie’s hold on her became consistent.

She wished she could see the look on any of their faces as they stood in silent darkness, but the inky black seemed to devour everything around it.

Dewey turned on his phone’s flashlight. Webby instinctively cringed away from the light.

“Dewey!” Huey shut his eyes tight as Dewey shined the flashlight on him. “Stop!”

Dewey laughed. “Okay guys. I can’t see _anything_ in front of me without the light, so I think we’ve found a good spot.”

Webby caught a glimpse of Louie’s face; he seemed on the verge of tears, but quickly put on a braver face when he noticed Webby’s look of concern. She squeezed his hand and turned back to Dewey.

“Okay, Dewey! Showtime!” she announced. He shut off his phone flashlight.

In the darkness, Webby had to admit: this was a lot scarier than originally expected. It was pitch-black, nearly silent, and they were far from home, a misstep away from being lost in an underground tunnel. When she thought about it that way, she could see where Louie’s unease was coming from.

“Don’t worry, Louie,” she whispered. “I’m here.” He squeezed back.

It hit Webby that it was probably time to explain the blood-letting ritual to Dewey. 

“Dewey, you’re gonna have to make a cut straight across your hand,” she called to him. She was frustrated that the whole thing had to be done in the dark; it was unsettling enough as it was, and now her best friend had to cut himself open. What a _delightful_ cherry on top.

She held her breath and recoiled as Dewey let out a quick groan of pain. _Oh. Oh. He actually did it._ Louie, from beside her, whimpered softly. Huey remained stoic. 

Within a moment, Dewey was back to giggling. “Ahah, I did it, I lived, guys!” he called. Louie shifted beside her. She gave Dewey a thumbs up, before lowering her hand sheepishly as she realized that he wouldn’t be able to see it anyway.

The next steps left them in unsettling silence. The only noise Webby could hear was the sound of what she figured was Dewey, scurrying down the hallway to draw the finish line. Another pause, and a scurry back.

“Dewey, come here, I have to, uh, dress the wounds,” Huey yelled, his voice echoing through the hallway. Dewey presumably scampered back to where Huey was standing. Webby raised an eyebrow. _I didn’t know Huey had the ‘dressing wounds in the dark’ badge._

“So, I’m thinking this,” Dewey said. “You all come and wait down at the finish line, so you can cheer me on, and also be there when I win!”

Another pause. Webby didn’t see anything wrong with the idea, and she gave an “Okay!” in response. Louie sniffed, and managed to spit out a very calm, “Sure.”

Huey was the only one who hesitated. After a moment, though, even he seemed to think it was a fine idea.

“I… guess I don’t see why not,” he said. “I guess it’ll be fine…?”

“Of course it’ll be fine.”

Huey chuckled. “Yeah. I’m done with this, by the way. You’re all set, Dew.”

“Great! Then let’s get this started!”

* * *

Louie continued to cling onto Webby silently as they made their way down the tunnel to where Dewey had drawn his finish line. She realized where she had to stop when she noticed something _wet_ underfoot. She reached down and ran a finger over it before lifting her hand up to get a whiff. Yep, it was blood, all right. “I think I found where we need to be.” She was momentarily disturbed by the amount of blood on the ground but shook it off. Dewey seemed fine.

Louie spoke up. “Wait, Webby, shit-“

“That’s a dollar in the swear jar.”

“Whatever. Webby, I was supposed to help Dewey strategize against this thing, and I didn’t. I got too freaked out that I couldn’t… I didn’t even remember that he asked me to.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Louie,” Huey chimed in from behind them. “I don’t think you really _can_ strategize against this thing beyond ‘pace yourself’.”

At that moment, Webby’s expression shifted to sympathy. It was hard not to pity Louie at the moment. That was his shtick; planning things, scheming, and staying one step ahead of the game. How could he do that if nobody had ever _played_ the game before?

From down the hall, Dewey’s voice called out to them once more.

“Hey, guys! I’m sure Huey already let you know, but the thing doesn’t like it when people look at it, so… could you turn around?”

Webby did as told. “You didn’t tell us that, Huey,” she said.

“Sorry. I was going to.”

Webby pursed her lips. She wanted to cheer Dewey on, but she found it odd, and a little disturbing, just yelling down an empty subway tunnel. She hoped that Huey would also cheer, or else it would be _much_ more unsettling.

“Louie!” came the voice of the middle triplet. “Can you set the wager down behind you?”

Louie, for the first time since before they started heading into the darker tunnels, let go of Webby’s hand. She turned towards him, but didn’t really know what she expected; it was still pitch-black. She couldn’t see _anything._ She heard a soft ‘thud’, and presently felt Louie’s presence next to her once more.

“Done,” Louie said, using his loudest voice, which at the moment, was not too loud.

“Okay guys, I’m gonna start.”

Webby gave him one last cheer of encouragement. “We believe in you, Dewey!”

The three at the finish line moved a bit closer together, standing together in a circle. Webby put that together when both Huey and Louie grabbed her hands. She guessed they linked hands on their side, too.

“We have to cheer for him,” Huey said.

“I know,” said Louie. “I’m just nervous, okay?!”

“I get that,” Huey said. “But don’t you think cheering will help make this a little less nerve-wracking?”

“Maybe,” Louie muttered.

“I’ll be cheering, Huey!” Webby piped up. “How do we know when he’ll start?”

“He’ll yell ‘GO’.”

“Well, that’s an obvious sign,” Louie snarked.

Webby waited for ‘GO’, but every passing second painfully dragged on. Her skin crawled in the dark. She itched with desire for a resolution, or an enhanced version of whatever it was Louie put as a wager. 

“Louie, what did you wager?” she asked. “I don’t remember you ever talking too much about it?”

“Yeah, because I didn’t,” he replied. “It’s just… I don’t know. It’s just one of those dumb treasures we found.”

“Hey. Wait, is it the khopesh?” she inquired.

“… Perhaps,” he said. “I just think it would be cool if it was like, unbreakable, or if there were two of them?”

Webby raised an eyebrow in the darkness. “Well, okay,” she responded, but she was truthfully unsure. It was occasionally hard to tell what Louie was really feeling; sometimes, he was a tough nut to crack. Huey ’shhh’d’ from in front of them, and Webby zipped her lips.

With every passing second, it was like her heartbeat grew louder until it became ringing in her ears.

Snapping her out of her daze, Dewey’s cries cut the silence.

“On your marks, get set, _GO!”_

Webby instantly let out a holler to cheer for Dewey. Huey’s cheering seemed to go back and forth between actual cheers and just _screaming_. The race was supposed to last about forty seconds, but every single second dragged on. Time felt like a thick, impenetrable jelly. Behind her, when she managed to listen through the incessant yelling from Huey (and Louie; it surprised her that he was participating), the sound of furious footsteps rang out in the tunnels. Chills ran down her spine when she realized that it had to be the sound of multiple people- or entities, perhaps- running.

It was about twenty seconds in when Webby shivered with dread. Cold, rattling disquietude had set in, as if a dark haze had decided to settle over her. Dewey let out a pained yelp, and she fought the urge to turn around and go help.

“Dewey!!” she yelled. “Be careful!!! Don’t push yourself too hard, it’s _okay_ to lose this one!!”

To her surprise, Dewey screamed back, his voice breaking. “NO!”

Something was disturbing about his tone. It was fearful- _genuinely_. Dewey was the bravest of all of them, and his shaking voice rung out high with panic.

“I- I _can’t lose this!_ ”

Huey stopped cheering. “Dewey?”

Thirty silent seconds had passed. Then thirty-five. Then forty.

Dewey hadn’t reached the finish line.

Webby had enough. She had to make sure he was okay.

She turned around.

A clamor of yelling pervaded the silence, and within seconds the darkness of the tunnel was enveloped in sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes "snarked" is a word. i dont really have anything else to say!!! thanks for reading so far and i will catch yall next monday!!!
> 
> 1/29 update: reread and fixed a few mistakes


	4. this race is a prophecy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dewey runs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ME: I WILL UPLOAD EVERY MONDAY  
> ME: [SKIPS A MONDAY] [SKIPS ANOTHER MONDAY] [POSTS ON A FRIDAY]
> 
> uhhhhhhhh yeah i cant really explain where i went other than school beat me up with a baseball bat and also ive been crying over tangled for a long long time. and also i had writers block. and i did not know how to tackle this chapter. i wrote most of it at my friends hous where i still am on a surface at 2 in the morning and after. and now here i am. i will try to not let this happen again.
> 
> but i cant make any promises.
> 
> anyways, here! conflict!

_“We believe in you, Dewey!”_

Dewey stood at the starting line. The act of drawing the starting and finish lines was, admittedly, not the most pleasant thing he has ever subjected himself to, but the adrenaline rushing through his veins helped to distract him from the fact that his hand had been cut open and throbbing in pain. It _did_ help, however, that his brother, the best Junior Woodchuck he knew, kept supplies on him at all times. And also that he knew how to dress wounds in the dark. 

Dewey realized what he had to do next. The… _complicated_ part. Huey had been over this part with him several times: the summoning of the opponent. Dewey scoffed to himself. _I bet Huey doesn’t think I can handle it. Well, well. Guess I have no choice but to prove that I, too, have some crazy mental fortitude._

So he closed his eyes like Huey instructed him to.

Internally, his thoughts swirled. Of course, most of them pertained to the race, and he had an easy time getting them out. He only had to remember that he needed a clear head for this whole thing to work. He had an anxiety or two to quell, but he chased those away with ease. He decided that he could leave the worrying up to Louie. 

_Visualize your opponent. Nothing specific, but a concept. A concept, a concept, a concept. Conceptualize. Vague ideas. Come on, Dewey, you got this._

He continued to wrack his brain for ideas for a few more minutes, to no avail. Growing frustrated, he swore under his breath and kicked at the ground. 

What makes an opponent? _Well, they’re… cocky. They think they’re so much better than me. They think they can just throw away everything to win._

As he thought, the idea in his head began to take shape. Or not necessarily _shape_ , but the concept of a racing rival became more clear to Dewey. His heart pounded in his chest, but not out of fear. The experience exhilarated him. Now he just waited for something to happen next. 

A part of him expected silence. And for a moment, that’s what he got. He let out a sigh; perhaps he was wrong to expect anything. 

In that moment, however, a chill rushed down his spine and his feathers stood on end. 

“H-hey,” he said, expecting the speech to come out brave, but sounding very, very small. “Are you... I, uh, I mean, show yourself!” He realized how stupid he sounded, especially considering he couldn’t look at his opponent. 

A voice. A voice rang in his ears. Dewey had difficulty, though, making out what it was trying to say; it sounded less like a single voice and more like a cacophony. Layered vocals and sounds swirled next to him and Dewey resisted the urge, the pull to glance to his side. He swallowed hard, sweat dripping in hard beads down his forehead. Dewey forced his focus to hone in on what the voices, or at least the most coherent one, were saying. It was deep, distorted. Chilling. Maybe this wasn’t a normal ghost. 

He prepped himself for whatever the being would say, when the voice rumbled next to him. “What are the stakes?” 

Dewey’s mind raced. What was he supposed to say again?? What would Louie want??? Double or enhanced. Double or enhanced. What qualified as “enhanced”?! 

“Double, better, or nothing!” is what Dewey spat out in his momentary panic. Relief came first; at least he managed to say something. Fear came next. Did he say the right thing?

The grumble let out a laugh, or what Dewey guessed was a laugh. It didn’t sound like a real laugh, but he shook off the cold feeling that it left him with. 

“Are you sure?” 

Dewey’s voice got caught in his throat, and he remembered something Huey told him back in the library: Do not respond to any taunts. Dewey decided this was one of said taunts. He forced himself to remain silent. 

“Are you sure about the prize?” 

Dewey nodded. That was okay, right? It wasn’t a taunt, it was a question. And Dewey wanted to get this race on with. He just wanted another stupid expensive artifact, damnit. 

Then silence, again, from his right. The voice had quieted down. Nothing remained except the ringing in Dewey’s ears and the beating of his heart. Okay, then. This would be easy. He took a deep breath to calm his nerve. The last thing he wanted to do was freeze up in fear when he meant to run. 

Inhale. 

“Ready….” 

Exhale. 

“Set….” 

_Deep breaths, Dewey._

A pause. 

“GO!” 

No hesitation, no holding back. He took off in a sprint and threw himself forward, letting his adrenaline and quick feet carry him towards the finish line. From in front of him, his siblings’ cheers filled his ears. Next to him, the voice returned. 

“It’s over, Dewey,” it hissed. Dewey refused to let this _thing_ intimidate him. If the demon had his name, so what? He _liked_ the idea that he was _that_ famous in the demon realm. He kept going without responding, as talking while running would hinder him. The lack of a middle line became apparent when a force pressed down on his arm, or he wobbled to the side thanks to an attempted shove.

“You’re cheating! Cut it out!” 

Dewey growled and pushed himself harder. The footsteps to his side picked up their pace, and he attempted to do the same. 

“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” came the low voice. _It’s trying to trick me. It’s trying to win. It’s trying to get me to slow down so I'll lose._

A deep, twisted chuckle. “Well, well, it’ll be even better if you witness the taking of the prize when you’re exhausted.” 

Dewey’s lungs burned. His throat was dry, and his chest tightened. 

The voice sang to itself, its heavy footsteps _thump-thumping_ against the ground. “Now, which one to pick?” 

Dewey’s stomach dropped. _Wh-wait, what?_

This was not part of the plan. What was he talking about, ‘which _one_ ’? There was only ONE prize. Unless Louie brought something else, too? Dewey’s thoughts raced almost as quickly as his feet did. He pressed onward. 

“What?! It doesn’t matter what you take!” Dewey spat in frustration. 

Something like a manic chuckle echoed from the ground beside him. “Okay,” came its response. “Eenie, meenie, miny... _pink_.” 

...Pink?? 

_Pink?!_

Dewey’s heart nearly dropped out of his chest. “Wait, wh- what?!”   
His feet stopped for a moment out of fear, and in that split-second a violent shove came to his side, tossing him off balance and skidding to the side. He yelped in fear. Panicking momentarily, he forced himself to collect his composure and keep going. Ahead of him, Webby was yelling to him. 

Oh, no. 

_Oh, no._

“It’s okay to lose this one!” she called from the finish line. Dewey thought he was going to throw up, or cry, or both. Instead, he cried out. 

_“I can’t- I can’t lose this!!”_

With that, another shove, this one knocking him off his feet and sending him hurdling off the platform. He hit the ground with a _thwump_ and rolled onto the track. 

… 

He lay on the ground in his daze for what seemed like forever. _I lost. There is no way I didn’t lose. I lost. I_ lost _._ _Oh, oh... my god, Webby._

The monster’s words hissed in his ears. _“Eenie, meenie, miny, pink.”_

Dewey’s eyes snapped open, and he frantically pulled himself off the ground, his head pounding. His hand was still bleeding, and he was pretty sure he had acquired a few new bruises from smacking against the train tracks. He silently thanked the universe that the tunnel had been abandoned and that he didn’t run the risk of being smashed by an incoming train. He scrambled to pull himself back onto the platform. 

He heard Louie and Huey’s voices in a frenzy from the finish line. His eyes adjusted as one of his brothers appeared to pull out their phone flashlight. He limped over to where the light was coming from. 

Dewey was still in a confused haze when he arrived. The distance wasn’t too far, thankfully; he felt like he was still about to collapse. Huey hurried to his side. 

“Dewey!” he exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. “You- you’re okay!” 

Dewey stood limply in his brother’s arms, silent, for a moment, before he rasped out a, “... Where is Webby?” 

Huey let go of Dewey and didn’t say anything. He shined the flashlight towards Louie, who was on the ground, gripping the Khopesh, staring at the ground with tears in his eyes. 

“Louie,” Dewey said, his voice quiet. “I...” 

Louie whipped around to face him, fire in his teary eyes. _“What the hell did you do?!”_

Dewey couldn’t speak. What went _wrong_? _I don't understand. I didn't think... people... could be a prize?_

Huey was on the case. Dewey stared blankly as his brother flipped through the pages of the book, scanning each sentence for a semblance of a hint as to what happened. 

“Oh,” he said, finally. “Oh.” 

“What?” snapped Louie. 

“The prize goes behind the finish line,” Huey said. “ _Just_ the prize.” 

Dewey’s stomach churned. “I...”   
He watched as the look on Huey's face contorted to an expression of anger. 

“...Dewey, I _discussed this with you_!” his voice began the trilling crescendo which always happened when Huey got _really_ mad. “I... we talked about the book! We went over it! Were you paying any attention _at all!?”_

Dewey wasn’t going to just sit there and take it. “Oh, _okay_ ,” he spat. “If you knew _soooo_ much about this book and this whole race thing, why didn’t you just tell me you weren’t supposed to stand behind the stupid finish line!” Despite trying his best to sound confident, his voice was weak from the running and being tossed into the subway tracks. He gripped his sides in pain as the yelling began to take a toll on him. 

Huey didn’t have a coherent response, instead babbling on about how _this was irresponsible_ , and _now Webby is GONE_ , and how _he had no idea what they were going to do now_! Dewey was beginning to zone in and out of focus as his brother angrily stormed about, throwing his hands up and gesturing wildly in his fit. Louie remained on the floor, shaking and crying. 

“And now _look_ at Louie!” Huey spat. 

Louie turned his head back up to Dewey. “Webby is _gone_ , Dewey...” he said, his anger having subsided, and now his voice hardly more than a shaky, hushed whisper. “You... we... took a dumb risk, and now we _lost_ _Webby_.” 

Louie began to cry again, curling into a ball and clinging onto the Khopesh. _Webby is gone. That thing took him. And it’s... it’s my fault. Oh my god. Oh my god._

The reality of the situation was beginning to set in. Dewey wobbled away towards the subway wall, slumping down against it, and putting his head in his hands. The stinging tears began to well up in the corners of his eyes. 

“Dewey, stop it-” Huey hissed. “You can’t just-” 

Dewey moved his head up from his hands. “I’m sorry, okay?!” his voice broke. “I’m sorry! It _is_ my fault we’re in this mess! I screwed it up, okay! I didn’t know that this could even happen! I tried to follow all the rules, I tried to do everything my best! I- I tried my best, _okay_?!” 

His voice devolved into sobs. “I tried my best, and it _wasn’t good enough_ , ‘nd now Webby is gone! I...” 

He put his face back in his hands. 

“Oh, god, what if she-” 

“Don’t say it, Dewey,” came Louie’s small voice. “Please, _please_ don’t say it.” 

Dewey returned to crying. 

Huey had been silent for too long. Dewey didn’t care; fear, guilt, and regret consumed him. He was aware that Louie didn’t want to hear it, but there was a very real possibility of Webby being _dead_. And Dewey caused it. His best friend could be dead because of him. 

After a moment, Dewey felt a hand on his shoulder. He peered up at Huey. 

“I’m... I’m sorry, Dewey,” he whispered. Dewey noticed that he had tears of his own on his face. “I… I’m just... I'm just _scared_ , Dewey.”

Dewey stared back. “’Sokay, Hue," he said after a moment of collecting himself. 

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, the only sound coming from Louie’s hiccuped sobs. 

Huey's voice broke the silence. “...What... what do we do?” 

Dewey wiped his eyes and sniffed. “I... don’t know. But... we can’t just... do nothing.” 

He furrowed his brow and pulled the heavy weight of his body up. He shined the light of his phone’s flashlight down on his brothers, mustering up as much courage and gusto as possible, despite feeling the opposite. 

“We have to do _something_. So let's... let's figure something out.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im veryyyyyy uhhhhhh tired and kind of unhappy here BUT . whatever. spoiler alert all the conflict between the brothers is not resolved. but they also have bigger problems to tackle than just arguing and beating each other up.
> 
> as always, i love u all very much! thank you for reading and thank you for putting up with my weird schedule? i am in hell ! when will ducktales season 3 come !


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